


She? ...Sure, "she".

by Noa



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: BFFs, Gen, Just wait until Owain gets his first crush, M/M, ft. Owain, love advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-24 15:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3774037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noa/pseuds/Noa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Alas! What could have disturbed my friend’s peace so that he does not sense my powerful aura?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	She? ...Sure, "she".

War made for many unlikely relationships, romantic or otherwise. From friends to enemies and vice versa, from complete strangers to closest allies. On a battlefield, it didn’t matter if you grew up in a castle, or on a farm. It didn’t matter whether you rode horseback, or transformed into an age-old dragon.

And though time travel was something no one’d ever dreamed to encounter, once Lucina joined them, even generation gaps became insufficient to trigger exclusion. Quite the opposite, in fact. Sudden parents shared their experiences and found unexpected colleagues, where their children saw their struggles reflected in each other.

The Shepherds had long since stopped frowning at the odd couples their battles brought into being. Rather, their love was celebrated for persevering, for blooming on such barren ground.

Regardless of blood, form or era: they fought for each other, bled for each other, cheered each other on to finish that final scrap of bear meat off a plate. There was no faster way to get to know one another, and sometimes, no better way to fall in love.

However, being in love still came with its usual pleasures and perils. Inigo found himself on the peril side of the scale today, sitting by the fire long past supper. He busied himself poking at smoldering wood with his sword, heaving sighs deep enough to drown legions.

Inigo, having love trouble. The irony was tangible, and it stung on his skin. He was the one people sought out when they needed tips on how to start a conversation, or when they wanted to know how to properly propose teatime (or, alternatively, “teatime”). For him to look like he dropped his heart in the sand over something _love related_ , was almost strange enough to be funny.

Of course, Inigo didn’t find it funny at all.

It was then that Owain approached him, and cleared his throat, waiting to be noticed. He did that often, simply showing up, and standing patiently until the others acknowledged his presence. It was probably the most polite way of intruding Inigo’s ever witnessed, and so very, very Owain.

The friendship between Inigo and Owain came unexpected, especially to Inigo and Owain themselves. Their characters seemed oceans apart, their priorities even further, and they had no blood relation to bind them. Still, they found pieces of themselves in each other, some common ground, and it proved to be enough. Inigo learned to read between Owain’s archaic lines, and Owain learned to see through Inigo’s song and dance. An odd couple, definitely, but a good one. They came to each other for advice, sparring sessions, thinking up names for weapons and moves, and practicing heroic poses by the waterside. (The waterside was the best place to practice poses, especially in sunlight. The water would break the light into a glittering shroud, accentuating their status as destined heroes, and upping the swoon-factor of their moves considerably.) Others would regard them with a vaguely confused smile, happy for their comradery, yet unable to follow even a second of their conversations.

Now it was Owain displaying a vaguely confused smile, because Inigo still hadn’t noticed him. Instead, the sparks shooting up from the fire were reflected in his blank stare, and Owain frowned at the sight.

“Alas! What could have disturbed my friend’s peace so that he does not sense my powerful aura?” He said, but still Inigo failed to pay attention to him. He didn’t even look up.

Owain ran a hand through his hair, obviously confused, before deciding to crouch by Inigo’s side.

“What bothers you, dear comrade.” Owain tried again. “Point me to the source of your darkest mental objects, and I shall exterminate them without delay.”

Inigo sighed once more, and just as Owain was about to resort to poking at his friend with the nearest procurable stick, Inigo turned to face him.

“Hmm? Oh, hi Owain.” Inigo spoke monotonously, which did nothing to relieve Owain’s worries.

“On what plane do you currently reside, my friend.” Owain asked. “You stare ahead as if you’ve seen visions of the most dreadful kind.”

“Oh, I have.” Inigo replied, exhaling loudly once more. At this rate, Ricken could toss his Elwind tome and use Inigo’s sighs instead. “But it’s nothing like that.”

“Pray, from whence comes this cloud of darkness that obstructs your famed glow?” Owain asked. He regarded Inigo with genuine concern in his eyes, and Inigo knew he had to explain, but the campfire wasn’t the place for such sensitive topics.

Inigo glanced around with a hint of nervousness, and dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He said, and Owain nodded, understanding the implication. They both got up, and sauntered off towards the nearest forest area as casually as they could manage. (The two of them weren’t made to blend in with the masses, but fortunately, no one who saw them seemed to disagree with their somewhat suspicious escape).

“It’s just,” Inigo said, once they’d gained some distance from camp. “You see, there’s this, uh.” He stumbled over his words, and shook his head, drawing a fresh breath to start over.

“I like someone.” Inigo ended up saying, breathing it out like he was at one of Libra’s confessionals.

Owain’s face brightened.

“Truly! This is wonderful news; my fellow dimension-crosser has found a home for his valued affections! Undoubtedly, she must be no less than an angelic vision to have captured your learned eye.”

Inigo chose not to take the latter part of Owain’s exclamation as an insult. He averted his gaze, and ran a hand through his hair.

“…Yeah.” Inigo said quietly, clearly uncomfortable.

“But why would this weigh on you so?” Owain asked. “Does she receive love from another? Has she yet taken vows?” Something akin to realization flashed across Owain’s features, and suddenly, he sounded gravely concerned. “…Your heart has not been conquered by your mother, has it.”

“What? No!” Inigo nearly startled himself with his sudden volume, quieting down when he remembered their proximity to camp. “Gods, no.” Inigo grimaced just thinking about it. His mother was beautiful, undeniably so, but not like that. Absolutely not like that. Never like that.

“Then what keeps you from setting out to win this fair maiden’s love? Surely you do not lack the confidence to approach her.” Owain said, to which Inigo smiled sheepishly.

“Well… It’s complicated.” Inigo said. “I mean, I’ve tried striking up a conversation, chat them up a little, but… They’re not too talkative.” Another sigh. “I haven’t been rejected, not really, but I’m afraid I’ve not much more to impress them with than well-chosen words.”

“Alack,” Owain replied. “Never have I heard claims further from the truth. What of your skill in battle? What of your exceptional dance?”

Once again, Inigo seemed startled.

“Dance? I’m not going to dance for-” Inigo cleared his throat. “I’ve barely gathered the courage to dance with my mother.” He said.

“And that is likely why she has not yet thrown herself at your talented feet.” Owain said, shrugging as if it were obvious. “Whatever happened to your outspoken desire of shaking your hips for the ladies?”

“No.” Inigo said, shaking his head rather than his hips. “I can’t.”

Now it was Owain’s turn to sigh, and he did so with all the dramatic flair one would expect.

“Once again, your faith becomes fear as soon as your feelings are true.” He said, glancing sideways at his friend.

“I know.” Inigo admitted, hanging his head. “I know.”

Owain seemed to think for a moment, before slapping Inigo on the shoulder, hard enough to nearly send his friend face-first to the ground.

“Chin up!” Owain said. “For not one man walks this plane which could… I mean, no one carries your legendary… Uh.” Owain trails off, his brows furrowed to a point where it looks painful. After a few more jumbled sentences, he shook his head. “Look, what I’m trying to say is go for it man. You got this.”

Inigo chuckled. It was not often that Owain dropped the verbal mask, but it never failed to cheer him up.

“Maybe you’re right.” Inigo said.

Owain nodded with a sense of satisfaction.

“And if need be, you can always tell her of your amity with the legendary Owain.” Owain added, causing Inigo to snort.

“If need be.” Inigo repeated.

He’d let Owain keep his dream, but Inigo was pretty sure Gerome wouldn’t be too impressed by that.


End file.
